You’re Not Alone/Neither Are You {A Mini Reylo Fic}

Occasionally I write fanfics. The one below is actually more of a rewrite, because while The Last Jedi novelization was quite pro-Reylo, parts were rather passionless. The hand touch scene, for instance, was written in probably the briefest way possible, and it was utterly devoid of any sort of romantic or sexual tension. So I rewrote it… (actually this post is more a showcase of my procrastination skills than anything else because I wrote the following when I was supposed to be writing a History essay. Whoops). For the record, I haven’t actually read the novelization (Clara has though)…I just skimmed through it and read the Reylo parts. Anyway, I hope you enjoy my mini-fanfic!

The light was blue and dark over his face; she was suddenly aware of how young he was, and she tensed with something like hope. She held her hand out over the fire, and he slipped off his glove, and reached out to her. His eyes were desperate, his hands were firm and beautiful—she couldn’t breathe. It was night in the hut, and the cave still clung to her skin, but between them was a shadowy light, and the hot innocent flush that comes from going wet in the dark. It was then that she felt him—the firelight dancing over their skin as her fingers met his, and the pulse that slipped from his hands and into her mind. Rey, he was whispering, and it echoed across her head, as she saw Kylo Ren stripped away and Ben Solo standing at her back, his arm against hers, his face flickering with life—there were more images that came; something like an entire vision breaking against her, but she only remembered it later. The ocean was in his eyes too, and she thought of the way the ice had flickered before it broke into shadow, the way she had thought there were two shapes laid out in her future instead of one—he burned against her hand, and she was not so sure that the heat and the pleasure were only in her mind. The Force was golden around them—

“What is this?” and Luke was in the doorway, undoing the spell, the hut exploding outwards and dust coming into her eyes, Ben crumbling away before her. Now there was fresh rain on her skin, and her fingers were still burning, and Luke was glowering at her like she was the one who’d done an unspeakable wrong.

Rey was brought to a passion; the old man before her had no answers—he was a killer—he had created her monster and murdered her prince—she couldn’t hate him, and she couldn’t pity him, because he was suddenly useless. There was only one person who mattered now, and he was halfway across the galaxy, prisoner to a darkness only she could understand. He was her last hope.

THANK YOU FOR THIS! I needed this in my life so much! I have yet to read the novelisation as well, but when I do, I’m going to print your version of this scene out and paste it in there. 😀 This is really well-written and just… I can’t make a coherent and insightful comment because I’m fangirling so hard I almost forgot how to spell insightful. Thank you for feeding my Reylo obsession.

Awww thank you! Funnily enough, I was actually wondering what you thought of Reylo the other day, what do you know, you ship it! I mean OF COURSE because some people just have good taste :). (Seriously though, you could probably make a legitimate argument that people who like more nuanced literature are more likely to ship things are more complex/subtle/literary, or what have you.)
But really, thank you!!!! I’m so glad you liked it!
~Hermione